


The Woes of Roscoe

by ChatterboxAngel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, The Jeep - Freeform, Ungrateful werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChatterboxAngel/pseuds/ChatterboxAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles's jeep is in the shop again, and he's stuck without a ride.  </p><p>Who does he call?  </p><p>Derek, of course.</p><p>Based on this <a href="http://swingsetindecember.tumblr.com/post/82005424497/captain-snark-i-need-fic-where-derek-refers-t">tumblr prompt</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Woes of Roscoe

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Again! His poor baby was in the shop again! All because the pack of emotionally, stunted teenaged werewolves (plus Derek) that he consistently saved the asses of on a regular basis couldn’t be bothered to handle his baby with the gentleness and respect it deserved. He doubted that any of them even cared that his poor Roscoe needed repairs for the sixth time in as many months. If it wasn’t Erica (quite unnecessarily) wrenching out his part of his Jeep to hit him with (she was a freaking werewolf ok?) or a Kanima denting the hood, it was pixies flying under the hood to mess up the engine, random monsters obliterating his windows, or things with claws slashing his tires so the getaway vehicle was rendered inoperable.

 

The point is that poor Roscoe was getting far more than her fair share of damage in the supernatural shit-fest that was his life. Of course, Stiles was annoyed that he had to now rely on an increasingly unreliable Scott (seriously, when that boy was in love, it was like nothing else existed) for rides everywhere, but really, what he was most concerned about was that someday, the damage would be unfixable. Old as it was, the Jeep was one of Stiles’s most valued possessions, one of the few remaining things inherited from his mother that he could still use without feeling a pang of loss in his chest every time he looked at it. Rather, when he drove his baby around, he was reminded of warm afternoons spent in his kiddy car staring at the Jeep as his mom cooed how much more adorable he would be a grown-up truck.

 

So, yeah, poor Roscoe was in the shop again thanks to ungrateful werewolves and the accompanying supernatural shit-storm. And to top it all off, Stiles was stuck outside the garage, waiting for Scott to remember he existed long enough to answer his damn phone. Ten text messages, seven ignored calls, and three voicemails of trying left the human teen in a very bad mood, especially since he didn’t want to disturb his dad who was currently on his first date in several years. It just so happened that the sheriff and Melissa had finally decided to drop dancing around each other and actually go out on a date. If they decided to get married, it would be beyond awesome to have his best friend become his brother, but at this moment in time, Stiles was very, very annoyed with said best friend for not answering his phone.

 

Sighing, Stiles stared down at his phone, where Derek’s number sat innocently taunting him. If Scott wouldn’t pick up, why would the Alpha bother? On a good day, Derek could barely tolerate him by ignoring all the babbling, or at least, that’s what Stiles assumed was happening. After all, not even Scott paid full attention, especially when he was going through weird topics like the history of male circumcision or really, random and kind of boring ones like the process of grape-stomping (hey, he had found it extremely interesting that one summer afternoon). Still, Derek was the only other pack member that had a car and that Stiles didn’t hate (i/e: Peter and Jackson). So, he did the only thing he could do, he dialed Derek’s number.

 

“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek growled at him as soon as he picked up the phone.

 

“Hi Stiles, how are you on this fine day?” Stiles quipped. “Fine. Thank you. How nice of you to ask Sourwolf.”

 

“Stiles,” Derek growled again.

 

“Fine,” the human huffed. “My Jeep is in the shop again, and I need someone to pick me up. Dad’s on a date, and I’m assuming Scott’s in Allison-la-la-land since he’s not answering his phone. Could you please come get me?”

 

Derek didn’t answer. Of course, he didn’t. Sighing again, Stiles pocketed his phone and decided to wait for fifteen or so minutes before trying anyone else. Derek’s loft was less than a ten minute drive away, so he figured he would have his answer soon enough about whether the Alpha werewolf felt sorry enough for the pack’s token human to do him a favor.

 

And true to his predictions, about nine minutes after Derek had hung up so abruptly, the Camaro came rolling up the hill and pulled over right in front of Stiles. Smiling, Stiles let himself into the front seat, but that smile disappeared at the sight of Derek’s frown-y expression and tense everything else. So, he just buckled up for a very quiet trip home. Several minutes of deafening silence later, they pulled up into the Stilinski home driveway, but as Stiles started to get out, Derek’s voice stopped him.

 

“How’s Roscoe?” he asked, and Stiles could only flail out of his seatbelt.

 

“What?” Stiles said, staring at Derek with wide, shocked eyes.

 

“Roscoe,” Derek bit out, meeting the teenager’s gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Your Jeep.”

 

“She’ll be fine, all fixed up within two days,” Stiles said, his tone full of wonder as he stared at Derek with so much happiness and affection that the Alpha werewolf had to look away. Of course, that did nothing to help him get away from the obvious increase in Stiles’s heartbeat. For his part, Stiles was so happy, and his heart was pounding so hard that he could barely breathe.

 

Derek knew his baby’s name. Derek had to be listening to at least some, if not all, of those babbling rants of Stiles’s, because that was the only time he’d ever mentioned the Jeep’s name to the Alpha. That meant that Derek didn’t just tolerate Stiles; he actually liked him! Stiles’s hopeless crush on the Alpha wasn’t so hopeless after all.

 

Unable to stop himself, the human teen launched himself across the center console to brush his lips against Derek’s cheek, which instantly flared up.

 

“See you later, Sourwolf,” Stiles said with a bright smile as he began exiting the car very slowly, intent on enjoying the blush on Derek’s face as long as he could. The Alpha werewolf didn’t say anything, just glared, but when paired with the bright red cheeks, Stiles just found him adorable. The staring contest continued for a long while, but it was Derek who relented first, turning away quickly, but not quickly enough to hide the slight smile that now adorned his face.

 

“You don’t have to go,” Derek mumbled so softly that Stiles barely heard him, but since he did hear the words, he retreated back into the car with a thoughtful noise.

 

“Maybe,” Derek said, staring at the empty street in front of them like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Maybe we could go…” And apparently, that was where the Alpha werewolf hit his word quota for the day, because Derek’s words didn’t just trail off, they came to a complete fucking halt. They just hung there in the open air for several moments, waiting for Stiles to pick them up.

 

“Out for coffee?” Stiles finished for him. “I’d love to. The place on Third has absolutely amazing pastries.” Nodding silently, Derek pulled back out onto the street but not before flashing a very quick, very shy smile in Stiles’s direction.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick thing I typed up because I'm procrastinating, and inspiration hit. Perfect combo right. Sorry for any typos. I hope you enjoyed the fic.
> 
> If it behooves you, please comment, kudo, bookmark, and / or subscribe.


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